No one said anything. One hundred yards away and closing, the mob moved toward their position. They poured off the cliff face and down the rockfall, but the glacier itself was more difficult to navigate. Deep crevasses created ice fingers that dead-ended. Trails of ice that tapered to knife-edges couldn’t be negotiated. But as one shaman found a way, others followed.
As Ursula readied a fireball, a bright light flashed not ten yards in front of them.
Although the shamans to either side of Dominique tensed, the shock at what she saw made her clutch her chest.
“Nicole?” she whispered.
Paintbrush already working, Nicole glanced over her shoulder at them.
“Come on!” she yelled, waving them over as the painting quickly took shape.
The other shamans had already started forward, but Dominique could only stare. Despite the approaching horde, Nicole kept painting. No matter what happened now, it was a moment Dominique would never forget. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned as fierce pride swelled in her chest. Ursula paused and shot Dominique a questioning look.
Dominique grinned at her and clasped her around the shoulders. “That’s my sister,” Dominique said. “That’s my sister!”
“Then come on!” Ursula said, pulling her forward.
The four of them ran together, closing on Nicole, but converging with the enemy. The painting was done and Nicole stood aside. The shore of the lake beckoned to them, the sapphire waves gently lapping it. Wan-li was the first one through, then Alvina.
Nicole kept waving them forward. “Go,” she said. “Go.”
Beyond her, the Siberian shaman’s faces were visible–angry and unbelieving. They would be on them in seconds. But as Ursula leapt through, Dominique stopped. Grasping Nicole’s face between her hands, the words that needed to flow stuck at a constriction in Dominique’s throat.
Nicole beamed back at her. “I know,” she said.
Then the two of them jumped through.
• • • • •
Livvy spread the rug on the gravel beach. “Lay it in the center,” she said to Tamara.
Without much delicacy, Tamara plunked the Stone of Alatyr down in the middle. Careful not to touch it, Livvy brought up the corners of the cloth and tied them in rough knots. As she stood unsteadily, part vertigo, part exhaustion, heavy footfalls landed behind her. Though Livvy spun, the lack of reaction on Tamara and Blanca’s part had already allayed her fears.
Wan-li, Alvina, and Ursula had just landed. Then Dominique and Nicole seemed to emerge from an unseen slit in midair. They landed arm in arm. Though Livvy waited for more, there were none.
“That’s it?” she asked, unbelieving. “Just…just you five?” Dread welled up from the pit of her stomach. “The others…are they–”
“In the real world,” said Nicole.
Livvy exhaled with relief but caught herself. Tamara’s boar had found them but was limping. Its back was horribly scarred.
“Liv!” someone called.
Behind her, in the snowy, translucent apartment, SK was calling out to her.
“You have the Stone?” Dominique asked.
In answer, Livvy lifted the rug bundle. “I have to go,” she said.
Though Tamara had bent to one knee to caress the boar, she stood and took Livvy’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, her face still full of the terror she’d endured.
“Through the lake,” Livvy said to her. “You’re going to be all right.”
Tamara nodded and let her go.
“Livvy,” Nicole said, “your side.”
The shamans were staring at her and Blanca. Livvy could only guess how they must appear. But it would have to wait.
She knelt next to Blanca and touched her forehead to the giant cat’s. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Blanca answered with a deep purr.
“Liv!” SK called.
She stood and backed up as her friends looked on. Though the words were woefully inadequate and almost ridiculous to hear, Livvy said them again anyway, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
“LIV!” SK SCREAMED again between breaths.
Colin ran into the room and dropped the towels. “Min!” he screamed. He crashed to his knees next to her side. “Min!” he screamed into her face. He shook her shoulders as SK kept up the chest compressions.
“Colin,” he gasped. “Rescue breaths.” Colin didn’t respond. Tears were streaming down his face. “Dammit, Colin!” SK screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice vibrating with the rhythmic thrusting on Min’s chest. “Don’t give up!” SK yelled. “It’s not too late!” Colin blinked and looked up. “Help me!”
Colin’s mouth closed with a snap. He stared at SK’s hands, one over the other on top of Min’s chest. It was as though he were trying to understand the words. “What–”
“Pinch her nose,” SK breathed. “Blow into her mouth!”
“The baby!” Colin screamed as he got up.
“No!” SK said, grabbing his arm with one hand and compressing with the other. If they could resuscitate Min, her body would take care of the baby. SK yanked him back down to his knees. “Breathe for her! Breathe for them both!”
Colin seemed to understand. Trembling fingers pinched Min’s nose and his mouth covered hers. Min’s diaphragm rose and SK pushed on the breastbone. Thunder boomed as though it was in the room with them. The lights flickered on for a second. Rain crashed into the window. Desiccated crackling filled the air, and SK knew who it had to be.
• • • • •
As Livvy stepped into the real world, she could still see the Multiverse. Like a double-exposed photograph, the two were superimposed. Though everything looked solid, the spirits within their bodies seemed to glow–Min’s the dimmest. Livvy’s mind raced trying to process what she saw, but she never stopped moving. The scene in the apartment was something out of a nightmare: Colin doing rescue breaths, SK on chest compressions, Brad in a fetal position in the corner, Sidirov lying in the doorway, blood everywhere.
Livvy dashed to the open metal case, ripping out the loose knots in the rug that held the Stone. The yellow grid lines flared to life all around her. But as she bent unsteadily to lay the meteorite inside, two hands slammed down on her wrists with loud, popping sparks.
Valentin’s withered face hovered in front of hers. “No,” he muttered, straining to stop her. “I must have it.” On his knees, he hung his weight on her arms, trying to dislodge the Stone. His knuckles went white. The tips of his long fingers wrapped over his thumbs.
“Let go,” Livvy said.
Lightning flashed outside with a deafening thunder peal. Her skin buzzed as a bright flash erupted under his hands. His mouth dropped open in a soundless scream, and his face froze in a paroxysm of pain. He shook violently as frothy spittle flew from his lips.
“Let go,” she said again.
With a loud snap, his hands opened and jerked back, and he sagged to the floor. Livvy didn’t pause to see him land. Instead, she dropped the Stone into the case. It landed with a heavy thunk. She lifted and then slammed the cover closed and pushed the latches down. The magnetic field disappeared. She rushed to SK’s side and knelt.
The same radiance that Livvy had seen in Sun-Hi filled everyone around her. As the realization hit home, Livvy sensed a subtle shift in the world and also in the Multiverse. It was as though she saw the two realms for what they truly were: the same. The knife-edge between life and death wasn’t even an edge. It was all the flip side.
But as Min’s spirit dimmed, so did that of her child. The next lightning shaman was fading. Livvy had a decision to make.
SK glanced over his shoulder at her. Breathing hard, arms straight, he kept compressing Min’s chest.
“Stop,” Livvy said. He turned away as though he hadn’t heard her. “SK,” she said again. “Stop.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.
“You have to,” she said.
“You have to take Min’s hand,” Livvy said. He didn’t look at her. “SK stop!”
He finally came to a halt. Hands on knees, he bent forward, struggling for breath.
“Colin,” Livvy said as she stood. “Back away.”
Colin grabbed SK’s hand. “Don’t stop!” Colin pleaded. “Please!”
“We’re not!” Livvy said, moving just behind SK. “Step away, Colin. Now!”
Understanding dawned on SK’s face. He forced himself to his feet.
“What…” Colin said. “No.” He stared down at Min. “Oh god.”
The air tingled on Livvy’s face. A tiny ball of electricity appeared at Colin’s shoulder and landed on him with a cracking sound. He cried out and flinched away, sitting back on his heels.
SK took Min’s limp hand in his. Livvy held out her hand to SK.
The air itself was alive. Lavender and yellow bursts of energy flickered all around them. SK’s amber eyes seemed lit from within. He reached for her but glanced at where Valentin lay and hesitated.
“Trust me,” she said, still holding out her hand.
He stood straight and inhaled deeply. “I can do that,” he said. As a brilliant flash burst between their fingers, he took hold of her hand. As he intertwined his fingers with hers, tiny points of light enveloped them.
Outside, lightning flashed as a giant clap of thunder rattled the window and the front door. Sparks like fireflies winked into existence all around them. The room was filled with them. They hovered and vibrated, ready, waiting. Long snakes of electricity crept toward her from every source and every direction. Her hair floated. Their clothes rustled and lifted. Buzzing filled the air, whining higher, rattling louder. SK’s fingers tightened on hers.
Livvy gave him one last look. With a final nod, she stared straight ahead, concentrated, and pulled inward. Every spark, every tendril, sought its home–her. A brilliant purple sphere contracted on her as it claimed all energy in its path. In one heartbeat it landed deep inside her chest. In the next pulse of her heart, it flew out.
SK’s body went rigid. Amber light blazed from his eyes. She could feel the energy pulled from her. On the floor, Min convulsed. Her back arched high, her shoulders barely touching the floor.
“Min!” Colin screamed, reaching out.
“Don’t touch her!” Livvy yelled.
Min’s eyes flew open. They glowed with the same orange light as SK’s. Colin froze in mid-reach. But Min’s eyes slowly closed, and her back settled down. The energy hadn’t been enough. Min was too far gone.
Through the window, Livvy saw the raging lightning storm outside. There was the energy Min needed. Out of pure reflex Livvy nearly called it, but she paused. She didn’t care what it did to her, but–
SK’s eyes met hers. “Do it,” he said.
Livvy saw the glimmer of Min’s faded spirit waver. They were out of time.
“Lightning,” she said.
Sudden quiet enveloped them and everything froze for a moment. But in the next, the world exploded. The front door blew outward. The window shattered. Ball lightning blazed in the room, and a dozen bolts connected with Livvy’s chest.
She rocked back on her heels, and only SK’s grip kept her from falling. The searing was beyond pain. Her free hand flew to her heart, and Livvy was shocked to feel heat. The skin beneath her hand glowed purple. It flared brightly, pulsing with a heartbeat that didn’t seem possible. She took a gasping, shuddering breath and found her lungs worked as well.
SK’s eyes had narrowed to slits in the glaring glow. And though he’d turned his face away, his hands still clamped hers and Min’s. The pain in Livvy’s chest mixed with something she couldn’t describe. More than a connection to lightning, she had bonded with something else, something bigger. Her entire body hummed with the new vitality that welled up inside. But as radiant and glorious as it was, it desperately needed release. Livvy took a deep breath, held it, and then let the energy go.
SK’s entire body shuddered. An oscillating groan was wrenched from his throat. Though his face contorted in pain, he never let go of her hand. It felt like their fingers were welding. Energy flew from her, taking her breath with it. Her heart skipped a beat and then another.
Min convulsed again. Like SK, her body trembled chaotically. Brilliant light shone from her eyes and also her gaping mouth. But finally her chest heaved and she sucked in a sharp, rasping breath.
“Min!” Colin screamed. “Min!”
One hand flew to her stomach and the other to Colin’s shoulder.
With the connection broken, the energy evaporated. Lightning, electricity, and sparks all disappeared at once. SK stumbled back into Livvy. Breathing hard, she leaned on him before she could fall.
“The baby!” Min screamed. “She’s coming!”
• • • • •
SK was drenched with sweat and his mouth was full of cotton balls, but he and Liv stumbled toward Min. Though he could barely comprehend what had just happened, there wasn’t a moment to think about it.
“The baby!” Min screamed again. “I can’t stop it.”
Outside, there was a siren. Someone had managed to get through to emergency services.
“Hold on, Babe!” Colin said, grasping her hand. “Help is here. Hold on!”
“The baby is here!” she yelled as a contraction seized her.
“SK,” Liv said, “the towels.”
She was already at Min’s feet and lifting the nightgown.
“Livvy,” Min ground out through clenched teeth.
“Breathe,” Liv said as SK scooped up the towels.
He handed a couple to her and she handed one back. “Keep it next to your body,” she said to him. “The baby will need warmth.”
He hugged it to his stomach as the heat continued to radiate from him. Liv spread the other towel under Min’s upraised knees.
“Ohhhh,” Min moaned, curling up.
“You’re doing good, Minnie Mouse,” Liv encouraged. “The baby’s crowning.”
“You can see her?” Colin exclaimed.
“She’s going to have dark hair,” Liv said.
Another contraction claimed Min.
“Push,” Liv said.
There was no point in trying to stop it now. As SK watched, Min bore down. Colin gripped her hand, scooted closer, and supported her upper body.
“That’s it!” Liv said. She reached down between Min’s knees.
Feet were pounding in the corridor outside. That had to be the paramedics.
“In here!” SK called.
“One more,” Liv said. “Take a breath. Next contraction.” Min focused on her, sucked in a breath. “Wait for it,” Liv said, still reaching down to the floor.
The contraction hit.
“Push!” Liv said. “Push!”
“Push!” Colin echoed. “Minty, push!”
“SK, get ready,” Liv said as Min groaned.
Colin was kneeling underneath her now as Min all but sat up. He grasped her from behind around the shoulders, his grimace identical to hers.
“Here she comes,” Liv said, staring intently downward. “Here we go.” The tone of her voice changed. “I’ve got you,” she said. “Easy now. I’ve got you.” She nodded at SK and he presented the towel. The next thing he knew the tiny infant was in his hands. So small! The umbilical cord uncoiled as Liv gently folded the edges of the towel over the little, quivering body. “On her chest,” Liv said to him.
A man knelt next to him and opened a medic box.
When did he get there?
“Oh my god,” Colin breathed as Min’s quaking hands scooped the tiny bundle up her chest. His hand covered hers. “Oh my god.”
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“Two months,” Liv said.
“What?” SK said.
She was talking to one of the paramedics. “Two months premature,” Liv said.
“Infant breather,” the man on SK’s right said.
“SK,” Liv said quietly.
He felt her tug on his arm. He stood up and they backed away as paramedics replaced them. “Wait,” SK said. “Is she…is the baby–”
A tiny cry came from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. It had been so brief that SK wasn’t sure he’d heard it, but then it came again. He looked up at Liv. Though her eyes glistened, her face was beaming, transfixed by what she was seeing. Though he couldn’t see over the paramedics, it wasn’t necessary. The next lightning shaman had been born.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
THE NEONATAL ICU was packed. Livvy stood near the back of the group, next to the door.
“Caitlin Hyun-Ju Deavers,” Colin announced.
All around, the shamans nodded appreciatively.
“Caity,” Min said, smiling down at her.
Colin had rolled her wheelchair as close as possible to the incubator. Min’s hand was inside, stroking Caity’s stomach. A plastic breathing tube was taped to her mouth, and her eyes were closed. Her lungs hadn’t yet developed enough to breathe well, and she didn’t have enough fat to keep her warm. But otherwise, Caity was in good health. She was a preemie and would need to be watched for the first few months, but Livvy was confident she’d come through fine. Livvy had been a preemie too.
Livvy caught SK watching her from the other side of the incubator. They exchanged a smile.
“Well,” Alvina said, “I understand the Institute is closed.”
“Yes,” SK said. “Most definitely out of business.”
“A flawed business model,” Wan-li said, arms crossed in front of her, “to say the least, yes?”
Shaman, Lover, Warrior: An Urban Fantasy Thriller (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Book 5) Page 27